Shit Storm

This morning I was on the phone when my daughter came running into the room, tears in her eyes, screaming 'Something really bad just happened!'

I'm thinking: Little Buddy fell off the top bunk? Lawmower accident, much daddy blood? H got hit by a car on the way across the street? WHAT? WHAT IS IT? FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, JUST TELL ME! You can't just start off a conversation like that without QUICKLY getting to the 'bad' part. Really.

It turns out the toilet jammed up and was pouring shit water, including floaters, all over the bathroom. Out into the hall and down the register into the bathroom downstairs. Who puts a heat vent in the floor of a bathroom anyway? That's got to be a 1960's stroke of architectural genius. There was, literally, a shit waterfall in the downstairs bathroom.

My couragous husband was braving the shit volcano and had waded in to attempt to stop the flow. He had his pants rolled up and was standing on two soaking towels, straddling the porcelain beast, ramming a plunger down its throat. There was crap everywhere. My daughter was in the hallway bawling and I was trying my best not to freak the fuck out.

You see, I have issues with shit germs. We don't have a soap dish; it's liquid only in this house because I'm not touching a bar of soap that someone just touched with their wiping hand. We don't have one of those cute toothbrush holder thingies that matches the soap dispenser either. When you flush the toilet microscopic shit germs are dispensed into the bathroom atmosphere and land on any available surface, including the toothbrushes in those neat matchy holders. And that's just nasty.

It took every ounce of my sanity and every towel in the house to mop up the shit river. Then began the bleaching process.....

I washed the floors three times and I think they're ok now but my daughter is still afraid to flush the toilet.

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